


untitled Ford has a Secret ficlet

by coreopsis



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-13
Updated: 2005-10-13
Packaged: 2018-03-31 00:16:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3957283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coreopsis/pseuds/coreopsis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ford's secret comes out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	untitled Ford has a Secret ficlet

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Meelie on LJ back in the day. So much fun was had. So. much. fun.

John woke up with a stinging pain in his left arm. When he tried to raise it up for a look, it stuck to the sheet. He tugged harder, ripping a few hairs out of his arm, which didn't hurt so much as piss him off a little. The cuts--four parallel like a cat's claw marks-- on his forearm were thin and had scabbed over, but since he had no idea where they came from, he decided to let Beckett take a look at them before his mission briefing. 

Once he was showered and dressed in his usual black t-shirt and uniform pants, he opened his door to leave his quarters and ran straight into Rodney. 

Before he could even get a "good morning" out of his mouth, Rodney grabbed John's wrist and lifted it up in front of his face. "What happened to your arm?" He squinted at the cuts and then his eyes widened as they met John's. "These look like razor cuts. But that's...wait...you're a cutter! That's so...so emo."

John arched a brow in bewilderment and latched on to the last thing out of Rodney's mouth. "Emo? Like...that red thing on Sesame Street?" 

"What?" Rodney dropped John's wrist and scowled at him. "How should I know what's on ...you watch Sesame Street?"

"I've seen it...by accident." As they started walking in the general direction of the infirmary, John waved that away and said earnestly, "I'm not a cutter. I have no idea how this happened. I just woke up and they were there."

"Maybe you did it in your sleep. You're a sleepwalking cutter," Rodney said, in an annoyingly smug voice that implied he'd figured it all out and found John's apparent psychological problems vastly amusing. 

"I'm not a cutter and I don't sleepwalk. The military is pretty particular about that."

"But you could be a secret cutter."

"Not with as many checkups as I get. Someone would notice." John couldn't believe he was actually having this conversation, but he wasn't going to let Rodney think he was something he wasn't. He wasn't sure why that was so important, but it damn sure was. "And also...I'M NOT A CUTTER."

"You don't have to yell," Rodney said reproachfully as a couple of the scientists standing at the intersection of two corridors stopped their conversation to stare at John and Rodney with open curiosity.

John took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I wouldn't have to yell if you'd just listen."

"Okay, okay." Rodney shrugged and made a 'get on with it' motion with one hand. "So what are the cuts and where did they come from then?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm going to see Beckett." John glanced at Rodney out of the corner of his eye and could practically see the words forming on Rodney's lips. "Stop it. I'm not a cutter."

"I didn't say anything," Rodney protested. 

"Yet," said John with a knowing cock of his eyebrows. "Oh look, here's my stop. Don't want to keep you from your terribly important fifth cup of coffee or anything."

"Oh, I've been up for hours." Rodney smiled and John kind of wanted to be anywhere else but here for just a second or two. "I can come in."

"No, really--"

"I insist." 

"You don't--"

"I'm concerned."

And somehow John found himself sitting on an examining table, ignoring Rodney and explaining to Dr Beckett that he was not, in fact, a cutter. Secret or otherwise. 

Beckett sighed as he finished applying an antibiotic ointment to the cuts and looked up at John with a disappointed expression. "No, Major, I know you're not. But well...Dr Heightmeyer and I thought Ford's little problem was under control."

"Ford did this to me?" John was too surprised to wonder at Beckett's lack of respect for doctor-patient confidentiality.

"Yes, I'm afraid that when Lieutenant Ford is under a large amount of stress he reverts to the way he dealt with problems in his teen years. He's a secret cutter...of others."

John stared at Beckett and then turned to look at Rodney who was no longer smiling. "You know what that means, Rodney? You could be next."

"That's an uncharitable thought, Major," said Beckett with a frown. 

"He called me emo."

"Like that little red monster on Sesame Street?"

"Ha. That's what I said." John nodded at Beckett and then smirked at Rodney.

"Yes, I'm so impressed with your choice of entertainment," Rodney said, rolling his eyes at the both of them. "Now, if you'll excuse me I need to go and check the controls on the door to my quarters."

When he was gone, John got serious again and asked Beckett if Ford would be okay. It's not like they could ship him back to Earth if he wasn't. They were all stuck out here together. But he would definitely be removed from overnight missions because stuck to the sheet with his own blood was John's new least favorite way to wake up. 

"Oh sure, between Kate and myself, we'll get him back to normal in no time." Beckett shrugged and added wryly, "Just don't fall asleep around him for a while."

"That makes me feel so much better." John got off the exam table and walked out of the infirmary. He had to go see if Rodney could double lock his quarters too. 

the end, such as it is. :)


End file.
